


Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light

by sleepymarvel



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: AU for season two episode nine, F/M, anne is in the clubhouse when Billy and his friends find it, eventual hurt/comfort, i don’t know how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymarvel/pseuds/sleepymarvel
Summary: Alternate Ending for season two, episode nine. Anne is in the clubhouse when Billy and his friends come across it while hunting the fox.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the TV show Anne with an E, not the book (which I haven’t read, opps). Enjoy! ♡

Anne wondered if her fox had a family, a family like hers who loved each other with great intensity. She wondered if her fox had a friend like Diana, a friend that the fox would die for. 

That’s how Anne lost track of time, daydreaming in her castle (her castle made of sticks and wood and flowers and nature), about her fox. 

Then it was night, Anne could tell by the way the crickets sang louder, the air felt more menacing, and her castle felt more like a fortress in a haunted forest than a clubhouse for a bunch of kids.  

She regretted ever writing a scary story and vowed to only ever write happy endings again (a vow she’d most likely break the next time she saw a cloud that looked like a haunted ship or tree branches that looked like skeleton hands). She wondered if she’d feel less scared if she was with Diana or Cole, if she’d left with them when the sun had began to go down hours ago. 

Slowly, Anne made her way over to the piece of cloth hanging over the window of her clubhouse and moved it aside. Cole’s sculptures stood among the trees like army men standing ready for battle. 

She cursed her imagination, now fearing that maybe lurking among the clay men were real men, like the boarders who stayed at Green Gables and told tales of gold and riches in Avonlea. 

_How extraordinarily frightening._

That’s when she saw shadows moving with the trees and the sculptures and she took a step back, the cloth on the window shutting quickly.  

_Please be my fox, please be my fox._

Her blood went suddenly cold and Anne wondered if it was possible for a person to have bones made of icicles. She thought, maybe if that person were some sort of ice queen. 

Outside her fortress she could hear hushed steps and the became aware of the overwhelming sensation of incoming danger.

And then,  “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” 

_Billy Andrews._

Anne thought suddenly that she’d have preferred the boarders. At least then, whatever came next would be a sort of adventure. With real life bandits. 

Billy Andrews was cruel.

Against her own inner insistence, she wished that Gilbert was there with her, at least then she’d feel like she was _safe._

_I don’t need Gilbert Blythe, I can handle myself._

She backed herself as far into her fortress as she could as Billy Andrews stuck in his head into the door of her clubhouse. “Anybody home?” 

She held her breath as if maybe if she couldn’t breath, Billy wouldn’t be able to see her. But he did, “Oh look, I found a lost dog.”

Billy grabbed Anne and pulled her out of the fort. His friends were laughing. Suddenly, she found her voice, “You’re trespassing Billy Andrews, leave or else you’ll regret it.”

“Oh I’ll regret it? What are you going to do?” Suddenly the butt of his gun slammed into her castle and Anne heard the horrifying sound of cracking wood. 

“ _Stop!”_ She yelled, and she started punching at him. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had never been in a fight. Except the play fights she’d have in the barn with stacks of hay (that were giants and trolls that Princess Cordelia needed to slay to win the favor of the royal court). 

For a moment, Billy was taken by surprise, and he stumbled backwards. But Anne was outnumbered and one of Billy’s friends grabbed her by the collar and yanked her back off of him. Anne fell against one of Cole’s sculptures, and it broke underneath her weight. 

_I’m sorry Cole, I’m so sorry. I’m a horrible terrible awful friend._

For a moment, Billy looked angry, and then he pointed his gun in Anne’s direction. “Never got to teach you that lesson, Fido.” And “Blythe isn’t here to help you this time.” 

Anne’s heart was in her throat and she was barely able to say ‘ _I’m sorry’_ when Billy fired the gun and it hit one of the sculptures that stood right beside her. 

She froze. “You _\- you fired at me!”_

Billy just laughed and started destroying the clubhouse again. She couldn’t get the sound of cracking wood out of her head, the sound of ripping paper, the sound of gun shots against clay, art being _destroyed_.

How were they laughing? How could anybody be this cruel? 

When everything was destroyed (shards of paper floating against the chilled night air, clay men laying against the dirt and brush like fallen soldiers, pens and notebooks scattered across grass) they pushed Anne’s fortress over and it fell apart. Once again becoming one with the earth. 

Her wonderland was gone. Her safe place was gone. 

Billy took a step towards her, where she was still in the dirt, her eyes big and angry. “Don’t cross me, understand? Or next time I’ll destroy more than just your dog house.”

They left and Anne was _crying, crying, crying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full offense to Billy Andrews, but he’s easy to write as all his dialouge sounds like a bully in a Wattpad novel.
> 
> To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne runs home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowow thank you so much for the comments last chapter, I’m a little intimidated to write this chapter (as you guys loved the last one so much, and I’m inherently not a great writer) so I’m hoping I live up to your expectations. Again, thank you so much for the comments! I love youuuu ♡

Anne was a dark silhouette running through the farm at Green Gables. Every turn she was facing a dragon, or a monster, or an army of evil skeletons, and she needed to escape. She needed to get home, where she felt safe (with Matthew and Marilla and her desk and her bed and her surviving stories).  
  
_I am not weak,_ _how dare Billy Andrews make me feel powerless,_ Anne thought as she ran and ran and ran through stalks of corn and scarecrows (that were looking especially menacing).  
  
Anne’s face was streaked red with tears, and she was almost back home, when she bumped into something sturdy.  
  
She fell back into rows of corn and wisps of ripped paper and broken clay fell out of her arms and flew up into the air around her frizzy red braids.

“Woah, hey, it’s just me.” Came Gilbert’s soft, teasing voice.

Anne wondered why God hated her so much, that she had to run into _him_ at the most embarrassing possible time (and of course, he was glowing.) She thought it absolutely unjust that one boy could be so entrancing and that boy happened to be her academic rival.

“Gilbert, wha-” she started,“Why are you just lurking in the cornfield in the dark!”

Gilbert laughed, “I’m not — I’m not lurking.” He extended his free hand to her, to help her up. “Sebastian and I were working on the farm late tonight and Mr. Cuthbert let me borrow some of his tools. I’m returning them.”

Anne glowered at his hand, brushed herself off, and got to her feet on her own. “Well, good.” She said, “I’m just heading home.”

She grabbed her bag, and continued through the corn. Gilbert glanced ahead at her and hurriedly gathered all her papers that she dropped (all shredded and ruined and almost unsalvagable) in his arms.

“Wait, Anne.” He ran to catch up with her, “You forgot these.”  
  
When Anne turned back him, he finally saw her face lit up by the moon, not covered by shadows and dark. It was obvious she had been crying and there was now a knot in his stomach that hadn’t been there before (and he wondered why seeing Anne so sad made him so upset). 

“You’ve been crying.” Gilbert said, his voice softer, more unsure (more confused).

Anne was even more embarrassed now, “It’s natural to cry in the wake of tragedy.” (and she saw her castle being toppled over, her writing being ripped up, the barrel of a gun pointed in her direction).

“Are you okay?” He asked seriously. “Are there any dragons out here that need slaying?”

Against her own better judgement, Anne found herself smiling, remembering some of the first words he ever said to her when they met. She could slay her own dragons and she knew that, but there was something comforting about having Gilbert around (even if he drove her crazy sometimes).

“You could walk me the rest of the way home.” Anne wiped at her red face with her sleeve. And then, “I’m currently avoiding an army of evil skeletons.”

* * *

“Where did you learn all that?” Anne asked, as they finally reached the fence at Green Gables. Gilbert was telling her about New York, and different typed off foods he got to try there, facts he learned about the world when he was working on the boat. Anne was entranced, almost like this in itself was like a story (some grand adventure from a book). Talking with Gilbert she almost forgot about the clubhouse, almost forgot about Billy, almost forgot how upset she was with God and with the world. 

Almost forgot she was crying in the cornfield in front of _Gilbert Blythe_ of all people.

“There were a lot of cultures in New York. A lot of new foods to try, different faces, I think you’d like it there. I know Avonlea is home — but there’s so much more to the world.” 

“We’ll have to go sometime, it would be the most wonderful adventure.” Then, blushing furiously (which Gilbert thought was cute), “Of course, we’d bring Diana and Cole and—”

“And Sebastian too.” Gilbert added, so Anne wouldn’t feel so embarrassed. “He’d like that.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow in school.” Anne said and she took off for the house.

As Gilbert watched Anne go, he thought she was the prettiest girl in Avonlea, and he wondered why she was crying. “Bye.” He half waved, (even though she couldn’t hear him). He set the tools back against the fence, and turned to head back home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfghjkl so when I wrote “Almost forgot she was crying in the cornfield in front of Gilbert Blythe of all people.” What I really wanted to write was “Almost forgot she was crying in the club in front of Gilbert Blythe of all people” and guys, you don’t know how hard I had to remind myself I wasn’t writing crack before I fixed it.
> 
> I’m concerned I didn’t write Anne well this chapter. I consulted a thesaurus but I don’t think it helped lmao


End file.
